Five Days
by hairsprayheart
Summary: Susan has five days left in Narnia, and she plans to make the most of them. Susan/Caspian.
1. Day One

**Five Days**

A _Chronicles of Narnia_ Fanfiction

- Day One -

* * *

"Anyone who wished to go there must come to Aslan and the Kings at the Ford of Beruna by the fifth day." (_Prince Caspian_, Aslan Makes a Door in the Air)

* * *

Author's Note: This story was inspired by the above quote, and may be considered somewhat canon, with the exception of the Pevensies being two to three years older than they were in the books. It focuses on the relationship between Susan and Caspian, and as I am new to this romance, I will gladly take comments and criticisms. As usual, I own nothing, and gain nothing except for my personal enjoyment. If you do not like the Suspian pairing, then you are entitled to your own opinion (though I am not quite sure how you stumbled upon this particular fic). If you _do_ like it, then I hope you will find that you have come to the right place!

* * *

  
It was over.

Really and truly, the battle against the Telmarines was finished. The usurper Miraz was dead; his soldiers, vanquished or imprisoned; and the Narnians, triumphant. In typical Narnian fashion, they wasted no time celebrating their victory.

Between the feasting and the dancing and the various other forms of celebrating, it would have been easy for a person to forget his troubles. After all, for most of the old Narnians, they had ended with the war. But there were some present who did not quite feel like they belonged with the Narnians. Susan Pevensie, their Gentle Queen, was one of these.

Before she sat down with her siblings and comrades to the feast that Aslan had provided, she noticed the Lion himself standing off a ways and gazing at her with a grim expression. Feeling compelled to go speak with him, she ambled over.

"Hello, Aslan," she greeted him respectfully, kneeling before him and bowing her head in the appropriate manner.

"Rise, dear one," the Lion commanded, his voice a deep, rumbling purr that soothed her to the soul. "It is well."

"I… I don't understand," Susan admitted hesitantly, after pondering his words.

"There are many things you will not understand," Aslan said, sounding saddened. "But you must still listen."

"Yes, Aslan," she promised meekly. "It will be as you say."

"I know," came the reply. "Peace, dear heart."

Susan nodded her thanks, knowing that she was dismissed. As she joined the others for supper, she continued to mull over what the Lion had said. She had a vague idea of what it might mean. But just because she had to listen did not mean that she would like it.

* * *

  
Susan had consumed enough food to be positively stuffed, but found that she was still restless. There were wines and fruits and meats and cakes, all delicious to be sure, but they had not been enough to satisfy her.

She wandered on the outskirts of the group (which was hard to do, given the sheer size of it), feeling lonely but not alone. Though someone else who was not in her position would have dismissed her as a silly, sulky sort of girl, she was doing the revelers a favor by not disturbing them with her brooding. From time to time she could make out the happily flushed faces of her siblings in the swirling crowd of Creatures and Animals and Telmarines around the great bonfire, and wondered if they missed her. She expected that they didn't, and was not upset by this, for if you have ever been to a Narnian party you would not blame them either. After all, as she had suspected, their time here was running out and she wanted them to enjoy themselves while they could.

_You should be celebrating with them_, she chided herself, kicking small pebbles out of her way to avoid tripping over them in the dusk. It was true that the Narnians had much to be happy about. Peter had been more or less victorious in his duel against the Usurper Miraz, and in the ensuing battle, the casualties had been minimal. The return of Aslan was met with humility and joy by all. But as the day came to a close, Susan had the feeling that even more was about to end. The Lion had decreed that, if they wished, the Telmarines could be sent to a new home on the fifth day. She had the sinking feeling that, at this time, her family would be returned to their own home.

Thinking this, she was surprised to hear footsteps behind her, and whirled around to face Caspian.

"You frightened me," she accused breathlessly.

"My apologies, my Queen." Though he sounded genuinely apologetic, his eyes were warm. "I hope my presence is not unwelcome."

"No," she said, more quickly than she thought seemly.

Caspian had the grace to smile, though she had by now thoroughly humiliated herself. "Then, may I have the honor of walking with you, my Queen?"

Flushing happily, Susan was swift to regain her composure with a dignified, "You may."

She looped her arm through his and they set off at a leisurely pace, crunching over the fallen leaves at their feet in the meandering path. It was twilight, and the air was thick with the dying heat. They could see the sunset through the canopy of the trees overhead.

For a few moments, they walked along in companionable silence. But just having Caspian by her side made Susan feel, at least a little, reassured. He was tall and strong, like an oak. Other than her brothers, she had not been around a young man in a long time (being in the middle of a war and attending an all-girls' boarding school didn't help things), and she was intensely attracted to Caspian. She hadn't admitted this to him, of course, and she felt that she couldn't until her fears that they were leaving were assuaged. Still, that lingering anxiety was making her unconsciously desperate to get closer to him. Everything had been pulled out from under her feet, multiple times, and it was so nice to have something sturdy to hold onto.

"You are worried."

"I'm sorry?" Susan looked up at Caspian with the sudden observation.

"_I'm_ sorry," Caspian amended hastily. "I did not mean to intrude, my queen."

Susan sighed. "Why must you call me that?"

Caspian just gave her a small smile.

"Why must you avoid the problem?"

"Because," Susan said, not feeling the need to duplicate his attempt at humor as she drawing in a deep breath, "I want to be happy. Just for a little while."

"Ah." Caspian's fingers twined with hers, and a jolt of electricity running up her arm rendered it useless to defend itself from the unfair attack. "Well, perhaps you must learn to find the good in the bad, then."

"Like right now," Susan murmured, stroking his palm with her finger absent-mindedly.

"Queen Susan..."

"Hmm?"

"That tickles," Caspian confessed, looking rather embarrassed.

"Oh." Susan withdrew her hand hastily, realizing that she had been lightly fondling it.

"Susan?"

Surprised by the lack of title, she met Caspian's gaze.

"I didn't mind," he said.

More firmly this time, he grasped her hand. It was surprisingly warm and soft; even the calluses earned from wielding a sword were barely noticeable. Susan did not protest. For the first time in a long time, she felt secure.

* * *

  
They walked back to the group hand-in-hand, guided only by the light of the stars and the massive bonfire. It didn't seem strange or uncomfortable; her fingers seemed to fit perfectly in his. They did not bother to analyze the causes or effects, they just _were_.

"Are you tired?" Susan asked, when they were almost in sight of the group. There were still some Fauns, Satyrs, and Dryads circling, but most of the Narnians were settling down for the night. It had been a long day.

Almost imperceptibly, Caspian nodded. Susan looked at him in surprise. That a knight, let alone a Telmarine, would admit weakness was unusual, to say the least. _He really _must_ be tired, _she thought sympathetically. The poor prince had been sheltered his whole life, and had spent the past few months working to fight against everything he knew. This admittance made Susan feel honored and burdened simultaneously.

"We'll be back soon," she reminded him softly. Already his steps had slowed, and she was worried.

In the glow of the firelight, shadows danced across Caspian's face, accentuating the scars and new lacerations that occupied it. Gingerly, Susan traced a long cut down the side of his face with her finger. He tensed initially, wincing, then relaxed into her touch.

"Does it hurt you?"

Wordlessly, Caspian shook his head, but not hard enough to dislodge her hand. Instead, he placed his hand over hers, so that it was held in place. "Nay, my queen."

Susan moved her hand down his cheek, along the line of his jaw, to grasp his chin and tilt it so she could view his face better in the flickering firelight.

"You've been hurt a lot, haven't you?" she asked quietly.

Caspian did not answer this. Instead, he removed his hand and turned his face away from her, letting her hand fall limply to her side.

"We have returned," he declared flatly, stating the obvious as they set foot in the Narnians' camp. "You should rest."

Even though it was too dark to see each other as they headed away from the fire, the tension crackling between them was nearly thick enough to cloud their vision, like a veil of smoke. The two had never fought before, but this was the closest they had come. Practical as ever, Susan supposed that with all of the rampant emotions that resulted from being battle-weary, and simply growing up, anger and defensiveness came along with passion. She let him move away from her and settle down, feeling sorry for him and deciding just to leave him alone for the moment. Despite the fact that he had just established a clear barrier between them (involving his past, it would seem), Susan was surprised to find that she desperately wanted to kiss him. She sighed.

Susan and Caspian had been attracted to each other from almost the first moment they saw each other. Both were lonely and confused, forced into roles they shouldn't have had to accept, having grown up too fast. Though they had not talked much, the understanding they shared was innate and infallible. They protected each other's back in a battle, defended each other in a debate, and occasionally rescued each other from imminent death (or at least Caspian had). Because their situation was such a strange one, marked by stormy emotions and a sort of fatalism, it was not hard to do something that felt so important. Their easy, simple friendship was rapidly developing into something more, and both of them were powerless to stop it. Only Aslan could. And would, Susan feared.

A soft snuffling sound startled Susan out of her reverie. Since his back was towards her, at first she fretted that Caspian might be crying, but when he rolled over, his face was serene. He was sleeping. And for the first time in many days, he looked at peace.

It was not entirely appropriate for them to sleep so close together, but she couldn't wake him now, and if she went traipsing off looking for another spot to sleep in for herself, she would probably wake someone else up. Resigning herself to whatever punishment may come, she stretched out in the soft dirt a dozen or so meters away from the sleeping prince.

* * *

"C-Caspian?"

Susan was barely aware she was speaking until the one she was addressing gave a drowsy grunt.

"I'm cold," she whispered loudly.

And she was. She hadn't realized it until then. But her teeth were chattering, and her fine arm hair stood erect over gooseflesh. Even the simplest of observations seems like a revelation when one is half-asleep.

Susan blinked. Everything was hazy. Though the fire was still blazing, it was distant and weakening.

"Mmm. C'mere," Caspian mumbled, his voice slightly muffled by the thick cloak he had employed as a pillow.

Obediently, Susan wiggled over to his side, too tired to consider what she was doing. Caspian lifted his arm lazily and folded her into its crook, and she snuggled up to his chest. Thus satisfied, Susan's eyes fluttered closed once more.


	2. Day Two

**Five Days**

A _Chronicles of Narnia_ Fanfiction

Day Two

* * *

AN: A huge thank you to all of my kind and helpful reviewers so far: **LoveandRockMusic**, **PenName2**, **maggie**, **amber'eyed'countess**, **StardustfromthePlanetGallifrey**, **lizabeth**, and **Bruce13**, and especially to **mae-e** for all of her nice messages! You guys are all wonderful and I hope you enjoy this next chapter. It was finished quickly, so it's not as polished as I would like it to be, or as long, but I think it turned out mostly how I wanted. Enjoy, and please don't forget to tell me what you think!

* * *

  
When Susan slowly awoke, it was to the sound of nervous laughter.

She stirred, returning the feeling to her limbs. The events of the previous day came flooding back to her in a moment - the feast, the bonfire, the battle - as did the familiar ache in her arms that resulted from the quick, repetitive shooting typical of battle. Practicing forever can never prepare you for the real thing. As she regained full consciousness, she was suddenly keenly aware of the fact that her body was flush against Caspian's, and already knowing that all of her siblings were also aware of this, she opened one eye to peer at them warily.

Lucy was the one giggling, though she looked rightfully embarrassed about it and unable to stop doing so. Edmund also looked embarrassed - more for his older sister caught in a compromising situation than for himself, though that would also be appropriate. It was Peter, of course, whose face was thunderous.

Carefully, she opened the other eye. The situation didn't look much better. She sat up and scooted away from Caspian, hissing his name in a futile attempt to wake him. She knew that some royals were heavy sleepers, but she hadn't really expected it of him. (Wouldn't sleeping in a tent for so long and needing to be prepared for a possible ambush make you more alert?)

"Good morning," she greeted her siblings, more brightly than she felt. She didn't have to look at Caspian to know he was still sound asleep. She was on her own here.

"I'll bet," Peter snorted.

"Peter William Pevensie!" Susan exclaimed, scandalized, as she felt a blush heat her cheeks. "You know as well as I that Caspian is too much of a gentleman—"

And then the aforementioned spoke, with only a hint of residual sleepiness in his respectful voice: "High King Peter."

_Oh, thank the Lion, he's awake_, Susan thought, relieved. _And capable of forming a sentence._

"I can explain..."

Susan winced. Ah, yes, Aslan had a sense of humor.

"I was cold," Susan interrupted him mercifully, seeing as the poor prince had no idea how to deal with an angry Peter. There was no point beating about the bush, it would only serve to infuriate him further. "He was just keeping me warm. We were asleep."

The High King did not look very convinced. He crossed his arms and stared down the dark-haired royal before him. Lying on the ground on a subservient position like Caspian was seemed a rather appropriate stance given the circumstances.

"Caspian, I think it's high time you and I had a Talk."

The prince paled and swallowed hard, but to his credit, he just nodded bravely and rose to go face possible death. Susan would have squeezed his hand, or something else to encourage him, but Peter's accusing gaze was now fixated on her. She had a feeling that any other sign of affection either of them showed would not help Caspian's case.

As the two walked off into the distance, Lucy piped up, "Would you like some breakfast? ...They might be a while."

Susan nodded mutely. It was only barely the beginning of the day and she had already gotten into trouble. Perhaps there was a reason Aslan seemed to want to send them home.

* * *

  
Breakfast was altogether uneventful. Susan picked at her breakfast obligingly while Lucy watched her to ensure she ate, and Edmund wolfed down his breakfast in an effort to avoid the elephant in the room. Susan knew they both had questions but were too polite to ask them. (Or rather, too polite to ask them at the table; Edmund probably didn't care to know, and Lucy would most assuredly interrogate her later in private.). The whole time she stared off into the distance absent-mindedly, hoping to see the two other royals emerge from the forest. In one piece.

As she might have expected - and feared - it was quite some time before they returned. But when they did, they were both quiet and civil. Edmund nearly leapt from the table, excused from his unwritten duty of babysitting in Peter's absence, and ran off, mumbling an incoherent excuse. More than likely he did not want to handle the situation between Susan and Caspian. He knew more than he let on.

Susan, on the other hand, stood up with as much grace as she could muster, waiting for her brother to speak. She appeared perfectly polite, but inside, quivered with anxiety. Her only reassurance was that Peter would not dare dishonor her by lecturing her in the presence of Lucy, Caspian, or any of the other Narnians (thank the Lion, none of them had witnessed any reason for punishment).

"Well?" she squeaked, after a moment of desperate silence.

Peter sighed heavily and just shook his head, meeting her eyes in a way that suggested, she hoped, that he would speak with her later.

"We are returning to the castle," Caspian told her in a defeated mumble. "Pack up your things, your Majesty."

Susan shot her brother a glare – _just when she'd thought she could be called _Susan_ again_ – and strode off to obey.

* * *

  
"Will you walk with me?" Caspian asked quietly.

Susan said nothing but fell into step with him. The fact that he had said the same thing the previous night irked her for some reason. Why was that so? She crossed her arms, waiting for him to speak. When he didn't, she gave an exasperated sigh and did so herself.

"You shouldn't let Peter boss you around, you know," she said flatly.

Caspian looked surprised but wisely took a moment to craft his answer.

"He _is_ the High King," he reminded her carefully.

"I don't care if he's the bloody Lion himself!" Susan swore, raising her hands heavenward. The hot eyes she felt on her back only inflamed her anger. "He can't control our feelings for each other!"

"Your Majesty," Caspian admonished in a whisper, looking just as aghast as she felt. "Do not say such things."

"Oh, so now you're trying to boss me around, too," Susan accused half-heartedly. Her fury subsided as quickly as it had flared up, like a doused flame.

"Even if I could, I would not dare, my Queen," he replied honestly.

Susan gave him a tiny smile. "I'm sorry. I know that you wouldn't. I'm just angry with Peter and took it out on the closest person I could find." She dropped her hands to her sides and one conveniently found Caspian's, clasping it in a tentative, apologetic way.

"Your Majesty, if I may..."

"Call me Susan," she insisted again.

Caspian's fingers curled around hers, fixing her attention on him as he spoke.

"What _are_ our feelings for each other?"

When she thought about this, Caspian took her silence to mean an unwillingness to discuss it.

"My apologies. It was not my place to inquire after the personal thoughts of the queen."

"Oh, no, Caspian, that's not it at all," she quickly reassured him. "We are friends, aren't we?"

"Yes." Caspian looked slightly disappointed – even hurt – and hid it badly with a forced smile.

"Perhaps more?" she added, squeezing his hand.

This time, his smile was a genuine one.

"I was not sure if my… affection for you was returned," Caspian admitted shyly. "I was afraid that I was mistaken when you began to show signs of your own feelings. But my heart dared to hope that it was right."

Susan could not help but flush at his sweet words. They were not completely unlike many she heard before from prospective suitors. In fact, they were much simpler than many loving speeches of which she had been on the receiving end. But Caspian's, in contrast to those, was humble and sincere and unsure. He was one of the least pompous people he knew, despite his origins, which were very much so. The fact that he would tell her these things, in confidence, assured her that his intentions were of the heart, and not a political scheme. She felt an ache for him that pained her like nothing she had known.

"I was afraid too. I thought you were too busy, too strong, too detached. Too damaged," Susan finished softly.

Caspian caressed her cheek gingerly with his free hand as they walked, a subtle but thrilling reminder of both of their deepening feelings. The sight of the contrast the network of white scars made against his dark flesh sickened Susan, and she turned her face away.

"I wanted to fix you," she whispered.

At this, Caspian stopped suddenly. His hand roamed from her cheek to the back of her head, tilting her face up to his, and her breath hitched in her throat. For a moment, and hoped and feared that he was going to kiss her, but after gazing at her at arms' length, he backed away.

"I-I do not know your traditions," he said softly, avoiding her questioning gaze.

"You have much to learn," Susan agreed.

Caspian looked at her sideways, giving her a flirtatious grin. "Will you teach me?"

Susan laughed at his sudden mischievousness. "Anything for you, Caspian."

"Do you know why Peter is acting the way he is?" Caspian asked, his face serious.

Somewhat taken aback, and not wishing to offend him with the truth, Susan fumbled, "Perhaps he is envious."

"No." Caspian sighed. "He is trying to protect you. From me."

Susan said nothing, knowing that he was right but not wishing to acknowledge it.

"I do not blame him," Caspian added solemnly.

"But it's not right, Caspian!" Susan cried. "Just because you are a Telmarine does no justice to his hatred."

"That is not why he hates me," Caspian murmured.

Susan raised an eyebrow, challenging him to give her a better answer. Caspian blew the breath out from his cheeks and tightened his grip on her hand, as if to make sure she didn't leave him.

"I asked to court you."

First due to shock then an overwhelming hopelessness, Susan slumped over. "He said no, didn't he?"

"He didn't say yes," Caspian told her quietly. "…He wanted me to ask you."

"Me?" Susan brightened considerably.

Was this some sort of trap? Susan's mind raced. Either this was the cruelest of all jokes that Peter was playing on her, or he really had said no and Caspian was taking matters into his own hands, or it was as he said, and she had the chance of a lifetime to be happy with him.

"I suppose I should answer, shouldn't I?" she asked nervously. By now, she had taken both of Caspian's hands, and they were lagging behind group as they walked slowly along, just holding each other.

"That would be helpful, yes," Caspian said. He also looked adorably nervous.

Just when her lips were forming around the word, a shadow passed over Caspian's face and he looked ahead – a Telmarine prisoner was approaching. He clearly was not pleased with the intrusion. He released Susan suddenly and faced the soldier with a stony glare.

"Yes?" he asked, his voice more cold and clipped than Susan had ever heard it.

"You are requested for urgent business involving matters of state, your Highness," the man informed him.

"Now?"

"Yes, Highness."

Caspian's face hardened, and he did not even give Susan a passing glance as he stormed past her to attend to his affairs.

She still had to recover from the turmoil of emotions that his question had brought on. She would have said yes. She was about to say yes.

* * *

  
The Narnians and the Telmarines began to jeer at each other. A satyr and a Dwarf were being targeted by two of the prisoners: "Look at this! A lot of animals!"

"You are the ones that have to be locked up, _sir_!" the Satyr retorted, to the great delight of his comrades.

Bound together by their hands and manacled at the ankles, the men could do nothing but spit at the Narnians to show their disdain. They did so eagerly.

"He spat on me!" the Dwarf cried out, inspecting his long black beard with alarm.

"I shall do more on equal standing," one of the Telmarines boasted.

The Satyr laughed haughtily. "I should like to see you try!"

Mocking the chained Telmarines, the Satyr loped on ahead, with the Dwarf stomping after him still stroking his beard defensively.

Susan observed this with a sad heart, feeling, of course, sympathy for both sides, as her title indicated. She would have reached out to the men, but they were so haughty and unwilling to accept the Narnians that she couldn't bring herself to do so. One of them also looked suspiciously similar to the man who had interrupted her and Caspian only an hour earlier. She steeled herself and walked past them, her head down so that she would not have to see their bitter faces stare at her in anger as she did so.

They knew that there was something going on between Susan and Caspian. Everyone knew. Even Peter, who was too dense to see his own hand in front of his face most of the time, knew. The Telmarine prisoners resented that their handsome prince appeared attracted to the strange barbarian queen, knowing that she was powerful enough to detract attention from them and their unmarried daughters. The Narnians seemed pleased enough with the budding relationship, but most of them were too absorbed with other things – such as their new freedom – to think much of it.

Susan had gotten used to the being the center of attention. She had been revered as the most beautiful woman in all of Narnia's history. There had been flowing poems composed for her, wars fought over her, and hearts broken over her. But she could not really recall a time when that attention had been negative. Even Rabadash, in his rash anger, had not hated her, but desired her all the more. The Telmarines' glittering glares were foreign and painful for her to endure, but she did so with the quiet, long-suffering way she did everything.

She walked on and on and on. She kept her gaze trained on the castle before her. So badly, she wanted to sleep.

To keep herself motivated, she pictured a scene of dancing at Cair Paravel with a man long ago. The stone castles didn't look quite the same, but in the distance, and with the aid of some lingering morning mist, they were at least comparable.

_Oh, Rabadash_, she thought, her anger mingling with wistfulness as she reminisced. _If he had truly been as he seemed..._

_No_, she interjected into her own reverie. _You have never looked at anyone the same way you look at Caspian. He is the handsomest, strongest, kindest man you have ever met. How foolish to think otherwise!_

It was true that she had looked at Rabadash. When she had first seen him, he was all that she had dreamed of. He was also handsome and strong and kind. But when she really saw him, he was everything but those things. She had spent more time with Caspian than most, and she had seen the full range of emotions, and still she loved him, all the more for it, truly.

Yes. She was in love. She had not realized that she had said it aloud until this moment, when she remembered her last word before drifting off to sleep in Caspian's arms. It had happened suddenly and slowly, painfully and easily. But it had most certainly happened.

Everyone acted as though it was strange for her to be falling in love. (And by "everyone", she meant Peter.) She had done it before, only to be hurt deeply, but that did not mean that she could try again and have success this time. And all this rubbish about her being too young - she had lived for thirty years. Maybe her body did not look like it, and her mind may have not been the same as it was when she actually was thirty, but she was still practical (for the most part) and patient. She was an adult and no one could tell her what to do and what not to do. Especially not her eldest brother.

Thinking this, she walked on.

* * *

  
The steel gates of the Telmarine city looked imposing even from a distance. It was clear to all that could see them that they were meant to keep something out. But once inside of them, Susan felt no safer; she was now being kept _in_.

If only to avoid Peter, she slipped away from the castle while the others were settling in to their new lodgings. She had nothing she wished to speak to him about, and if she did, it would be something that she would likely regret. So she went down to the market to look around and occupy herself, trying to be inconspicuous. Perhaps she would overhear some Telmarine gossip about Caspian.

To be truthful, she knew relatively little about him. She knew all that was important, because she knew what the Narnians thought of him. Though it had taken time and patience, he had won their trust. He was an able leader, a skilled swordsman, and a good man. He was just what they had needed to take back their land and their lives. And working in tandem with the Pevensies and the Narnians themselves, things had gone, for the most part, just as hoped. She knew that he wanted to make peace with his own people as well as with the Narnians. What they thought of this, she did not know, but she wanted to find out.

She was standing in front of a stand that sold fruit, inspecting an apple that looked much less appetizing than the ones that had grown in the orchards at the Cair, when someone said what she wanted to hear.

They were standing with their backs to her at a market stand across the way, looking at fabric and talking in loud, excited tones.

"Prince Caspian has returned," an older woman spoke up. "With all of his animal friends."

Her companion, a strikingly beautiful young woman (Susan noticed, out of the corner of her eye, with considerable disdain), wrinkled her nose. "The poor fool. Someone needs to set him right. The stench of the beasts has addled his brain."

"And the beauty of the barbarian queen," the old woman agreed with an indignant sniff. Susan stiffened but stayed where she was, knowing that they were talking about her and fearing the consequences of attracting their attention. "You are the one to do it, my girl. All of the young women have been invited to the feast tonight, and you will be the most beautiful one there."

"I have already laid out my dress," the girl replied, with obvious pride. "This time tomorrow, both you and I shall be happy women."

They began talking in detail about the ball, which was being thrown in an effort to find Caspian a wife, Susan supposed. She returned the apple and left, disgusted. It was clear that one of the lords was putting the ball on, and hoped to distract Caspian from Susan and the Narnians by giving him a beautiful girl to take up his time and energy. The king would become nothing more than a figurehead, with the scheming lords really holding the power, and the Narnians would be returned to their earlier position, or worse. Her siblings and the other Narnians had been purposely left off of the invitation list, of course, to make sure that they didn't ruin things. Susan smiled to herself. The lords forgot that they were Narnians.

If the Telmarines were trying to ruin her, they would really have to try harder.

* * *

  
And a ball there was. It was a different sort of thing than she was used to. The room was dark and cool despite the presence of flickering torches hung on the grey stone walls and hundreds of warm bodies crowded between them. Everyone was in masks, many of which bore a frightening resemblance to their late king, Miraz – of which the irony was not lost on Susan. Not only were they all the same, but she had learned (from Caspian's stories) that the lords often had two personalities that were revealed at times convenient to their own interests.

Hiding her pale face with a mask of her own, and suddenly grateful for her dark hair, Susan did her best to blend in with the crowd. She ducked her head and tried to be as rude as her nature allowed, bumping into people and avoiding their resulting glares, in order to keep from attracting attention, for this was, sadly, what was common among the Telmarines.

She bumped into a tall, broad-chested man in a glittering golden mask that was brilliant in the sea of silver ones. Instead of glaring at her at the intrusion, he flashed her a sweetly crooked smile and extended a hand to her. Before she could refuse, he had swept her out onto the dance floor.

Too afraid that her accent would give her away as a "non-native", Susan remained mute. Though it was awkward, she was too startled by the man's audacity to speak anyway. When the tempo of the song increased and he drew her body closer to his, all the breath left her lungs. He was an excellent dancer, if nothing else; graceful and light on his feet, leading but not commanding the dance. As the night went on, neither said a word, communicating only with their feet, and their eyes. Susan would have been disconcerted by this (no Telmarine possessed her bright blue ones), but she was growing strangely comfortable. The man's mannerisms were flowing and noble, putting her at ease. He was clearly genteel – too genteel, she hoped, to have ever seen a Narnian before and thus be able to recognize her as one. He was an aristocrat, perhaps. Or a lord.

She thought not of the time and worried not about her siblings finding her. All of her concentration went into the dances, which were only intensifying with time. The music heightened into a fever pitch and her partner suddenly leaned over her, kissing her softly on the lips that bloomed from beneath her mask. Her eyes fluttered closed in the instant that it the kiss lasted, as the man's hands roamed to the small of her back and settled there like butterflies, sealing them in an embrace. Her eyes opened to meet the intense gaze of the stranger's deep brown eyes. She blinked once, dazed. _Caspian._ Suddenly, she remembered herself, and stammered, "Please, good sir, I must find the prince straightaway!"

The man only smiled and shook his head slightly, the black waves of his hair shaken loose onto his broad shoulders and his dark eyes shining with mirth. Though she squirmed uncomfortably at his suspicious behavior (not to mention the guilt of kissing a man she did not court, let alone _know_!), his skillful hands held her fast. When he placed one finger on her lips to cease a protest, she realized who her partner had been. "My fair queen, I am he."

"Caspian?" Susan murmured dumbly.

"You have the eyes the color of the sea, my Queen," he said, mesmerizing her as he gazed smilingly into the aforementioned eyes. "I could not forget them."

Susan smiled sheepishly. All her attempts at disguise had clearly failed miserably, but her ultimate goal had been more than accomplished. The music had halted and the room had gone idle with it, and all eyes were on them. At that moment, the grand front entrance doors were thrown open to reveal Peter, the wind rushing in and causing her dress to billow around her ankles. She glanced back at Caspian and gently cupped her hand around his jaw, drawing his face nearer.

"I hope you shall forever remember this," she replied in a whisper, and again pressed her mouth to his.

The sensation left her lips tingling even after they had parted, and she stood back, feeling her body hum with excitement. Adrenaline coursed through her blood. She knew Peter could find her in the crowd in an instant, and fled the room in a swirl of skirts, leaving her prince and his citizens to wonder about the identity of the mysterious maiden who had won his heart that night.

* * *

  
Susan sat on her bed stiffly in her gown, wondering if she had been given servants in the time that they were distributed to others, for she had been wandering around the market at the time. She couldn't get out of it herself – all of the complicated stays were much too hard for her to undo without being able to look at them – and had only gotten into it with the help of the eager guard positioned outside of her room. Yes, it was rather unscrupulous, but it had worked. (She had already been in the dress, and had just needed him to tie it up, so it really wasn't all that bad. And it had helped her help Caspian, which was the guard's real purpose, anyway.)

There came a soft knock on her door, and she got to her feet with some effort to go answer it. She was surprised to see a woman there, and opened it to allow her entrance.

"You must be Queen Susan," the woman greeted her warmly.

"I am," Susan acknowledged, a bit warily, as the woman stepped inside. "Who are you?"

"I am Caspian's nurse."

"Caspian?" Susan asked, unable to keep the excitement from her voice. "He sent you here?"

"Yes," the nurse said, with a knowing smile. "He has told me many good things about you, your Majesty."

"Oh," Susan answered simply, not sure what else to say.

"He was right about your beauty," the nurse said kindly, gently turning Susan around so that she could begin untying the dress. Susan flushed at this, barely able to restrain a girlish giggle. "I hope, for his sake, that he is right about everything else."

Biting her lip, Susan turned her head to look at the door, where someone was knocking loudly. The nurse retied the dress quickly, to Susan's disappointment, and let Peter in.

"I am sorry for interrupting," he greeted them apologetically. "If you do not mind, madam, I wish to speak to my royal sister alone for a moment."

"Of course." The Nurse curtseyed respectfully and left the room, shutting the door behind her quietly.

"Where have you been all this time?" Peter asked firstly. "I was worried sick about you, Su."

"I had some thinking to do," Susan replied vaguely. "I just wanted to be alone."

"That's not what I've been hearing," Peter said. "People say they saw you around town earlier today, and then wandering about the castle." He took a moment to sweep his eyes over her. "What are you wearing?"

"They are having a feast downstairs," Susan supplied quietly.

"And I suppose Caspian's there?"

Susan nodded wordlessly.

"Oh, Susan, what are we going to do with you?" Peter moaned, looking at the roof in exasperation. "You and I both know what that ball was for, and it's not our place to try to interfere with Telmarine custom—"

"The Telmarine custom is _mad_!" Susan burst out. "They treat Caspian like a kind of animal just because he protects some! He is a puppet that the lords manipulate for their own purposes. I can't let them do that, Peter. I love him," she finished in a near-whisper.

"I know," Peter murmured, in a low, tortured voice. "I know, I know, I _know_. Hang it all, Susan, he loves you too."

"Why is that such a bad thing?" Susan demanded. "Why won't you let me be happy?"

"This isn't making you happy, Su!" Peter hissed. "He's just going to end up hurting you. I don't want to see you get hurt again."

Susan's eyes dropped to the floor. "He's not like Rabadash, Peter."

"He asked me to _court_ you," Peter told her sharply, as if that explained everything. "What do you expect me to think when I see you two lying around together, and then he asks me that?"

"I expect you to trust me," Susan answered calmly. "Just as he trusts you."

Peter shook his head.

"Susan, don't do this to yourself. When you ride a horse too fast, you end up falling."

"Then let me fall," Susan pleaded. "_Please_, Peter. I'm an adult. Won't you ever grow up, and let me do the same?"

"_Why_? Why do you want to grow up so bloody badly? Isn't what we have good enough for you?"

"Sometimes we have to do things that we don't want to do," Susan mumbled. "He needs us to help him, Peter."

Peter sucked in a deep breath of air. "I truly want you to be happy, Su. I do. But this isn't the way to do it. If the only reason you're marrying him is because you feel obligated to, I feel obligated to stop you."

"But I love him!" Susan cried, refusing to back down.

"Susan," Peter said seriously, laying his hands on her dresser to brace himself, "I love you too. I want to protect you. I can feel it; Aslan's trying to tell me something – we aren't going to be here for much longer."

Susan turned away, hot tears beginning to streak down her cheeks. She felt it, too, and it was only increasing her desperation to get close to Caspian.

The door closed and she heard two voices talking quietly in the corridor outside of her room. The nurse entered and undid her dress, helped her into a dress and readied her for bed, and then said goodnight and was also gone. Susan felt very alone.

She looked out her window, where the stars shown with what seemed a cruel and unadulterated joy. She opened it, glaring at the stars for daring to be happy when she was just the opposite, and shivered in the brisk night air.

Clad in just her nightgown, she slipped out onto the balcony outside of her room, surveying the gardens below and feeling sorry for herself. Light poured out from her room, illuminating everything. Suddenly, there was a movement in the shrubs, and she tensed, focusing in on the shadowy figure. Whoever it was, he was mumbling to himself and pacing.

"Who's there?" she inquired, her voice trembling slightly. Perhaps it had been a bad idea to ask. "…Peter?"

"Susan?"

_Caspian_.

"Caspian!" Susan cried. "Is it truly you?"

"Yes, it is I," Caspian answered, sounding relieved. "Oh, sweet flower, if you were only down here with me."

"Caspian!" Susan called, blushing. "Caspian… yes!"

"Yes what?" Caspian asked, stopping his pacing to look up at her.

"Yes, I'll court you," she said, unable to contain her grin.

"Is this a dream?" Caspian demanded. "I do not dare hope for such a sweet vision."

"I love you, Caspian," Susan said fiercely. "I swear it, I will be yours."

"Meet me tomorrow," Caspian begged. "Oh, I cannot bear another moment without you."

"I know. By the first rays of the morning sun, I will see you," Susan promised. "No man or beast will stop me."

"Until tomorrow," Caspian said, looking up at her longingly. "Sleep well, my queen."

"Until tomorrow," Susan murmured, watching him until he faded into the darkness.

She retreated to her room and slept peacefully, his name still on her lips.


	3. Day Three

**Five Days**

A _Chronicles of Narnia_ Fanfiction

Day Three

AN: I know that so far this story has been mostly from Susan's perspective, but I need to do a little bit of Caspian's in order to show every part of the story. Also, this chapter will be a lot more intense than the others, so be warned that I upped the rating. Hope you enjoy!

* * *

Caspian lay on his stomach in his bed, propping his elbow up and resting his chin in his hand. He had been awake the entire night thinking about Susan. For about the thirtieth time in the past hour, he rolled over and looked out the window to see if it was light out yet. It wasn't.

He sighed melodramatically and rolled back into his previous position. He wondered if she was thinking about him.

As soon as the sun rose, he would bolt from the room to talk to Professor Cornelius for their early morning lesson. It was a strange but familiar ritual - they would meet at dawn, while the others were asleep, and talk about Old Narnia. Of course, now Caspian knew practically everything there was to know about Narnia (especially how wonderful the kings and queens of old, and one in particular, were), but after the events of the previous day he felt some structure was necessary to ground him and he needed to talk to someone about all of his pent-up emotions.

He really had no royal duties to attend to; there was some sort of grace period between one king's death and another's coronation, to be respectful, he supposed. It was an odd tradition, and a dangerous one, but the lords didn't seem to miss Miraz and were happy enough to take over the ruling duties legally for a few days until Caspian was coronated. Whatever ridiculous laws they made, he would overturn - now that the true king was in power, he had a feeling that some of the more corrupt lords would not be.

Of course, once he _was_ coronated, he would be the busiest he had ever been in his life. He was still rather frightened, and rightfully so, he thought. But if he was fortunate (and he was), he would have someone to help him. And nothing could keep him from her.

...Except for the sun. He looked out the window once more. The black night had faded to a promising dark blue. He figured that by the time he was dressed and to the professor's study the sun would have risen, so he leaped out of bed and began to dress. Normally, servants would help him, but after living in the exact opposite of castle conditions for some time, he had been forced to learn how to take care of himself.

He slipped into a white linen shirt and layered a velvet tunic and leather jerkin over it. Then he pulled on leggings and boots. He spared a glance at his sword belt, feeling as though his hip was rather naked without it, but knew it was not needed for what he would be doing today. He unsheathed his sword lovingly, admiring it for a moment before returning it to its place and striding off to see the professor.

The halls were quite empty, of course, except for the few servants that had been up caring for all of the guests. They gave Caspian a shy glance or, if they were brave, a tentative "Welcome back, your Highness." He gave them a nod or a smile and continued on his way.

He knocked at the door of the professor's cell, where he lived as well as worked, and was surprised to hear a confused grunt. A moment later, Cornelius answered the door, also looking surprised, and sleepy.

"Er, good morning, my prince," he managed. "I trust you slept well? It is strange that you would be awake - is something wrong?"

"I did not sleep at all," Caspian admitted. "Something is going _right_."

"Come in, come in," the professor invited hastily. When Caspian obliged, he shut the door behind him. Caspian noticed that Cornelius' ransacked room was left much the same, even with a broken window, as it had been the last time he had seen it. (Well, he had actually been the cause of the window.) He looked back at the professor, who was stroking his beard nervously (as Dwarfs do, you know.) "Did your party go as well as expected?"

"Better," Caspian replied, with obvious pleasure.

"I see." By this point, Cornelius looked absolutely miserable. "My prince, you know the lords arranged the feast so that you might marry one of their daughters. I did not think that you would be so like your uncle as to do it the Telmarine way."

"Professor!" Caspian cried out, with righteous indignation. "I have not _been_ with a Telmarine woman!"

"Nor a Dryad, I hope," Cornelius muttered, only half-joking.

"I have lain with no woman or Narnian," Caspian reassured him, "but Aslan has blessed me indeed."

"That he has," Cornelius agreed, though cautiously.

"Oh, Professor," Caspian said with a dreamy sigh, "I'm in love with the most beautiful woman in all of Narnia."

"So you are." Cornelius gave a knowing smile. "What is she like, my prince? What is her name?"

"She is not the daughter of a lord," Caspian allowed.

"Good, good," Cornelius said. Though he was never openly treacherous, he hated the lords. Caspian knew that the professor did not want his pupil to be ensnared any further in their webs of political deception than he already had to be.

"She does have power. She is beautiful. Oh, she is beautiful! And she is a wonderful dancer. She is clever, and brave, and strong, as well. She is good. She is gentle."

Cornelius looked up. "Her Majesty Queen Susan? Oh, my prince, instruct your heart while you still have the chance."

"Ah, but it is too late," Caspian sighed. "It has already run away with me."

Cornelius shook his head. "You are as brave as you are foolish, my prince." Though most Telmarines would have had a man executed for saying such things, Caspian had known his tutor long enough both to respect him and listen to what he had to say. "She is a queen of old, a historical figure, not just a pretty thing to be played with. You say you are in love, but you are barely old enough to spell it."

"Professor, she loves me back," Caspian insisted. "She has agreed to court me."

"So quickly?" The Professor leaned heavily on his old desk. "Those who run fast will trip."

"I will go happily into her arms, Professor," Caspian said, twirling around the old Dwarf in ecstasy and pretending to fall into him.

"You silly boy. What if she can't hold you?"

"Ha! I will make sure of that," Caspian retorted smugly. He paced around the room a bit, looking anxious. He wanted to get back to Susan. If it took some vulgar language to get the professor to let him go do so, then that was just what he would have to resort to.

"Caspian!" the Professor hissed, too angered to use the title. "How dare you speak such a way of the queen?"

"She is _my_ queen," Caspian was quick to remind him. He "And I am going to meet her in a moment. Professor, if you do not give us your blessing, we will go on without it."

"All right, all right," Cornelius grunted unhappily. "I just wish you would not proceed with such haste. You have barely known each other."

"We have known each other long enough," Caspian countered. "I know that you just wish to keep me happy, but I will only be happy when I have her. Besides, your whole life you have hoped for the day when the Telmarines and the Narnians were united. What better way to do so than to create the greatest marriage alliance in all history?"

"Oh, no, my prince. First courting, then marriage? You are barely of age!"

"Ah, yes, but _barely_ is enough. Now, please, Professor. You are the only family I have. Give us your blessing."

Caspian was, of course, rather mercilessly trying to guilt Cornelius into marrying him and Susan. First by threatening to do things with Susan that should really only be done when married, and then by pleading with him. It was working.

"I already said yes. Now go, my prince. _Your_ queen awaits you. And be wise, or suffer. Aslan's watching you, even while I am not."

As he left, Caspian smiled to himself. If all went well, Susan would be his by nightfall.

* * *

Caspian nearly ran to Susan's chambers. The chambermaid gave him a look of alarm as he approached, but when he bid her good morning, she was so surprised that the prince had acknowledged her that she allowed him to pass. Though it may have been scandalous for a man to enter a woman's chambers, there wasn't anything anyone could do to stop him, and most of the Narnian moral laws had been done away with during the reign of the more… _free-spirited_ Telmarines.

He knocked softly on the door to her room, and when she didn't answer, he allowed himself in. She was still in bed, which surprised him. He moved over silently to her side, leaning over her and watching her sleep. Her hair was arranged around her face like a mane, and she looked serene – she was even smiling slightly. Caspian listened to her gentle breaths and barely refrained from laughing when she mumbled his name.

She looked so beautiful, like a flower. He couldn't help himself. He leaned down and kissed her – on the forehead, on the cheeks, on the nose, on the eyelids, and finally on the lips. She woke gently, as she did everything else. Feeling his lips upon hers and seeing him as her eyes fluttered open, her full lips curved into a smile. She inhaled his scent and Caspian slipped his hands beneath her back, lifting her closer to him and holding her in his strong arms. They held each other for a moment, enjoying each other's company, before he laid her down gingerly back on her bed.

"I love you," he whispered. "Queen Susan, _I love you_."

Susan smiled, a little sleepily, and replied, "I love you too, you know. But why tell me so at dawn?"

"Because I couldn't wait," Caspian answered, gazing at her hungrily and taking her hands in his. "I've been up all night thinking about you."

He kissed her hands, knuckle by knuckle, despite her giggles of protest. Her face was still flushed with the warmth and peace of sleep, and he thought she looked even more irresistible. He pressed her hands to his cheeks, letting them caress every part of his face, just enjoying her presence, and her delicate fingers on him.

"You promise?" Susan asked, pulling her hands back and sitting up slowly.

"I swear." He moved in closer, getting into bed beside her, his entire body tingling with desire for her approval, her loving touch. "I swear by everything I have ever known that I love you. I want you to be mine, for now and forever."

"Oh, don't swear," Susan murmured, tilting her head up as he kissed her neck. "Stop it, I—mmmm."

She broke off what she was saying as Caspian's fingers roamed from her head, where they held her while he kissed her, to her lips, to keep her from protesting.

"Susan, you said you would be mine by morning. And I am just as much yours. Now, my sweet, what would you like to do?"

"Anything, as long as it is with you," Susan replied, when her mouth could move freely again.

"We must be away before anyone realizes how long I have been in here," Caspian decided, at which Susan giggled. "I mustn't compromise your honor."

Susan traced a pattern on his cheek. "Yet."

Though Caspian had been saying such things, in jest, all morning, hearing them spoken by Susan, in his presence, was enough to make him flush. Telmarine men were expected to know how to please a woman, but the idea that Susan was aware of this was not only daunting but also almost too attractive for Caspian to bear.

He drew her into his lap and kissed her passionately, not caring who was going to know. She wrapped her arms around his neck, her fingers tangling into his long hair, as his mouth probed hers.

"Caspian," she gasped, pulling away suddenly to his disappointment, "not yet. …Not here."

Wordlessly, he nodded, knowing that she was right. He withdrew carefully, reluctantly.

"But soon?" he asked, hopefully.

She shook her head at him, though she smiled. "When I am your wife, you may do to me whatever you wish."

"Then marry me now," Caspian pleaded. "I cannot bear it any longer knowing that I am not fully yours."

"Caspian, there are things we have to do," Susan reminded him, though she also looked disappointed. "You made a promise to your kingdom before me. But when we see each other next… yes, I will marry you."

"Truly?" Caspian was surprised by his good fortune. Oh, he was the luckiest man in Narnia! She nodded against his neck.

"Caspian – why don't you speak of your childhood?"

Surprised, Caspian stiffened slightly. "It was an unpleasant time for me, my queen."

Thankfully, Susan simply nodded and instead asked, "Why do you call me _your_ queen?"

Caspian turned and pressed a gentle kiss to her brow with curved lips. "Because I know you aren't, but I would like to think you are."

"I am," Susan insisted, "More than anyone else's, anyway. The Telmarines hate me, and the Narnians still aren't quite sure if I'm real."

"That's not true," Caspian assured her, though he was lying about the lords, and she knew it. "See, you are real."

He took her hands, and ran them along her face, her neck, down her sides to rest on her hips. She watched him with worried interest as he tactfully avoided her bodice, and by the time his hands roamed up again to graze her lips, both of them were trembling.

"I can see you and feel you. You are more real than anything I have ever known."

Susan dropped her gaze - Caspian decided that her sudden shyness meant he had overstepped his boundaries - but what came out was completely unexpected:

"It was the lords, wasn't it?"

"What?"

"The lords - the whole lot of them," Susan murmured sadly. "They tried to set you up with a Telmarine woman so you wouldn't be _distracted_ by a Narnian."

Her voice hitched on the last word, and Caspian realized with dismay that she was about to cry.

"It didn't work," he reminded her fiercely, tracing patterns on her cheek with his index finger. "Destrier couldn't drag me away from you."

Susan gave him a tiny smile, straining upwards to give him a gentle kiss.

"Thank the Lion."

"For you I do each day," Caspian replied gallantly, causing Susan to giggle.

"I hate the lords," she said.

Caspian sighed.

"Aye. As do I."

Susan blinked up at him. "Why?"

Caspian could have listed many reasons why he hated the lords, but he realized that she was prodding him further for details of his childhood. He sighed. "My queen, I do not wish to burden you with my pain. It would only pain you. And nothing more than that can pain me."

"You're sweet," Susan acknowledged pleasantly. "But Caspian, I want to know. If we are to be married, nothing must be kept secret."

"Your wish is my command, lady," he acquiesced.

After a breath, he continued:

"My mother died of a sickness when I was a babe. When I was a boy, my father was murdered - as I only just learned. The lords impressed upon me their dangerous politics, but I wanted none of it. I was weary of being forced to do things I did not desire for myself. I was a spoiled child, a selfish child, but never happy." He paused briefly to smile at her. "Until now. I was ready for change, and Aslan brought me the opportunity, so I took it. Meeting you was the most pleasant outcome."

Sensing that he no longer wished to discuss it, Susan asked no further questions. She reached up to stroke his hair gently.

"I could just lay here all day," she commented quietly. "But I suppose if we want to carry on like this without suspicion, I _must_ marry you."

Caspian grinned. He leaned in for another kiss, but Susan stopped him quickly.

"Now, get out of here. I won't be able to miss you if you aren't gone."

He sighed, for her benefit, and left her to whatever duties she had for the day. He could occupy himself until then, if only by the knowledge that when that time came, it would bring him more happiness than he had ever known before. His love alone could sustain him.

* * *

While he presumed (hoped) Susan was making wedding preparations, Caspian decided to take Destrier out. His beloved horse had not been ridden for a day or two and needed some excitement. Caspian, too, needed to be outside for a little while – needed to release some of his pent-up energy. He half-ran down to the stable, tacked Destrier with flying hands, and mounted in one smooth movement.

They moved at a clip past the blurred shacks of the town, leaving all of the surprised women behind like a faded memory. Still faster Caspian urged his steed, until he knew nothing but the feel of Destrier's thickly corded muscles bunching beneath him with each stride, and the wind roiling his hair about his face. It was absolute bliss. He had raised Destrier from a colt to a stallion, their first meeting at Destrier's birth when Caspian was still a boy, only five years ago. Since then, they had been inseparable. Caspian was a gentle master, unlike his superiors had been to him, and he was more of a friend to the beast than a rider. Their love was mutual, or so it seemed; Destrier was, of course, just a horse, but his expressive ears and intelligent eyes spoke volumes of his capacity for feeling.

"What do you think, boy?" Caspian murmured, leaning low over the glistening black neck to whisper into the horse's ears. "Do you like her?"

In answer, Destrier lengthened his stride, and Caspian gave him his head. The young man let out a whoop of pure joy, knowing no one could see or separate them. When Destrier's breathy snorts had grown too quick, Caspian reined him in and turned him around. They returned to the castle at a sedate trot. Though Caspian felt less uncontrollable than he had earlier, he was still eager to make plans for a wedding. He couldn't get it off of his mind. He supposed that's how it was when you were in love.

He patted Destrier lovingly before handing him off to a groom. He would have cooled the horse down himself, but he had more important things to do, and his Nurse was approaching.

"Caspian? Good morn, dear." She took his face gently between her hands and kissed each of his cheeks in greeting. "I trust Her Majesty, Queen Susan, has spoken to you?"

"Aye," Caspian said, wiping the sweat from his brow hastily with the back of his hand. He grinned sheepishly. "You've heard, I suppose."

"That's why I've come to see you," she replied, lowering her voice. "She is ready for you." She shook her head. "I cannot believe it is happening like this. So suddenly, and all a big secret. You're getting _married_…"

Caspian shook his head, embarrassed, when he realized that his Nurse's eyes were wet with tears. He pulled her into a fierce embrace and held her for a long moment. She had taught him so much about life, even love. She was like a mother to him.

"Now listen to me, Caspian," she whispered. "You'll take care of the queen, won't you?"

"Of course, Nurse," he promised, releasing her with a smile.

She nodded gravely and held him at arms' length to admire him. "All grown up, and ready to have a family of your own." She clucked her tongue in disbelief.

"I wouldn't go that far," Caspian warned, but the thought secretly thrilled him.

"Go make her happy," his Nurse said finally. She stood on her tiptoes and planted a kiss on his shining forehead. "You're a good man, Caspian."

Caspian smiled crookedly. "You've taught me well."

"You are a hopeless flatterer," she scolded, but she was smiling. With that, she shooed him off. "Your bride is waiting."

* * *

Caspian wished he'd had time to change, but he was more eager to make Susan his own. After tonight, he would be a man. It was hard to imagine, but it was true. He would have a wife to support and love and feed and provide for. He would have siblings. He would, someday, have children. And he would have the love of his life by his side. He only wished his parents were with him. His mother would have given Susan her wedding dress, along with womanly advice. His father would have given him the home that they had built together and a few last words of support.

He placed both hands on the door to Professor Cornelius' study, bracing himself with the solid oak. He closed his eyes and drew in a deep breath, praying to Aslan for the Lion's blessing on what he was about to do. Then he opened the door and went inside.

As his nurse has told him, Susan was waiting for him, standing at Professor Cornelius' desk. She turned to look at Caspian, and his breath caught in his throat. She was stunning. Her slim form was draped in a simple pale purple gown, and her waves of dark hair fell freely down her back in soft waves. He took a step forward, almost mechanically, as she smiled at him and his heart leapt.

He joined her, slipping her hand into his, and stood before Professor Cornelius in silence. Gentle shafts of light poured in through the window and illuminated the old man that Caspian had loved and learned from for almost as long as he could remember. Caspian drank in the moment, knowing he would remember it forever.

Cornelius read Susan and Caspian their vows and they recited them obediently, hardly able to take their eyes off each other as they did so.

"By the power the Lion has given me, on this XI day of the month of Greenroof in the first year of the reign of Caspian the Tenth, I unite in matrimony His Highness Prince Caspian the Tenth of Telmar and Her Majesty Queen Susan the Gentle of Narnia.

"Do you, Caspian, take this woman to be your wife and queen, rule her country and her people as your own, and promise to love her and provide for her as you do her countrymen?"

Caspian squeezed Susan's hand lovingly, gazing into his professor's eyes with unwavering confidence despite his trembling heart. "I will."

"Do you, Susan, take this man to be your husband and king, accept and love his people as your own, and promise to love and serve him as you do his countrymen?"

Susan looked at Caspian, her eyes glittering with deep, demure happiness, and then back at Professor Cornelius. "I will."

The Professor closed his eyes and bowed his head to the couple respectfully.

"In the eyes of Aslan, I proclaim you man and wife."

As they had done more than a few times before, Caspian lowered his face to Susan's, and their lips met in a sweet kiss. It was perfect.

Her plump lips turned up into a smile as they parted. They both turned to Professor Cornelius, who was also smiling beneath his thick white beard.

"May your union bless Narnia, and may Narnia bless you as Aslan does."

"Thank you, Professor," Susan said warmly, kissing him. "For everything."

"You are making history, children," Cornelius responded happily. "There will be peace in Narnia for the first time in over a thousand years. Your love will be rewarded with the love of all of your subjects for each other."

Caspian embraced him heartily.

"I owe everything I have and am to you, Professor. May Aslan bless you."

They said their goodbyes, and walked out of the study as a couple.

"Well, I suppose we should separate, for now," Caspian sighed. "I will be so lonely the rest of the day without you."

Susan pursed her lips. "I wish we didn't have to keep this a secret. My siblings all know we love each other – isn't that enough?"

"These are tough times, my queen. I wish love was enough to solve everything." He took her hand and pressed his lips to it. "I will see you tonight, yes?"

Susan nodded wordlessly, a light flush coloring her cheeks. He squeezed her hand and released it, then strode off.

"Susan? What are you doing here?"

She pivoted to see Lucy looking at her curiously.

"I-I was visiting the professor," she responded, trying to be nonchalant. "I had a question to ask him."

"Oh." Lucy didn't look satisfied, but she thankfully let it drop. "Susan – are you all right?"

"Yes. More all right than I have ever been."

"All right," Lucy said, quietly. "If there's anything you need, you will let me know, won't you?"

Susan hesitated. She wanted so fiercely to tell her sister everything, but it would put all that she had in danger. Lucy was notoriously bad at keeping secrets.

"I'm fine, Lu. But… thanks for offering."

She pulled Lucy into a hug. She hadn't seen her much lately, with all of the fuss about the war and Miraz's death and so many other things she would rather not get involved in.

"Tomorrow we will do something fun together, I promise."

Lucy just looked lovingly up at her sister. "Don't worry, Su. We've got time."

As her little sister skipped off – probably to meet everyone in the castle – Susan smiled to herself. That had gone better than expected. In a few more hours, she would be with her husband – her husband!

Feeling a little dizzy with happiness, she wandered the castle's many corridors. She thought nothing could bring her down. That was, until she ran into something and fell flat on her behind.

"I am sorry," she said quickly, getting to her feet and glancing down at the form she had just knocked over.

The man also stood and was now glaring at her.

"You should be," he growled. Susan tensed. "The likes of you should not be in this castle at all."

"I would rather not like to fight with you, good sir," Susan replied unsteadily. "The Narnians and Telmarines are united."

"Not now, nor ever," the man insisted.

"Is there a problem, your Majesty?"

Susan saw a Black Dwarf approaching, and nearly kissed his little cap in relief. Though some of the Dwarfs had been involved in questionable situations, she had made good friends with many of them because they were all archers and fought together against the Telmarines.

"I say there is," the Telmarine sneered. "There are filthy animals running around in my father's house."

"Don't say that about the queen or her people," the Dwarf warned, jabbing one of his arrows at the man threateningly.

"Bimabrik, please – I don't want a fight," Susan repeated uselessly.

"You have already begun one," the Telmarine hissed, and with that, he buried his weapon into Bimabrik's chest.

His mouth fell open in surprise and a strangled cry emerged. Satisfied for the moment, the Telmarine withdrew his sword and took off running.

"You are the barbarian!" Susan screamed, not thinking as she withdrew an arrow from her quiver and notched it. It flew true and the man dropped only a few feet away.

She knelt by Bimabrik, her fingers trembling as she ripped some fabric from her dress and pressed it to the wound.

"It will be all right, Bimabrik," she promised unconvincingly.

"Let me die," the Dwarf ground out. "I will not live long in such fighting."

Susan turned away, hot tears streaming down her cheeks. She could not bear to watch. In despair, she fled.

* * *

Caspian paced the floor of his room, waiting for Susan to come and see him. He had known it would be difficult for her to get into his chambers, but he had not thought it would take this long. Restless, he decided to go and find her.

He searched every corridor of the castle for her, but she was nowhere to be found. He paused in front of Lord Gergoire's chambers, hearing several loud noises. He peeked in from behind a wall, unseen, and was horrified to see the lord and his companions standing over a body.

"My son! My son is dead!" Gergoire roared, over and over again.

"This Dwarf killed him," one of his assistants spat.

"No," another decided, "this is the barbarian queen's arrow!"

Caspian backed away, his mind reeling. He turned and ran back to his room, throwing open the door and collapsing on his bed.

He glanced into the corner of his room, where a form was huddled over, crying.

"Susan," he whispered hoarsely. "What have we done?"

Susan sniffled, and he sat on the floor next to her, draping his arm over her shoulders to comfort her. They wept together.

"They will punish me, won't they?" Susan murmured miserably.

"I will not let them," Caspian vowed, stamping a kiss on her forehead. He shook his head, remembering something. "…Tomorrow, I will be crowned king. No one knows that I already am. I have the power to protect you. Even if I did not, my sword might say otherwise."

Susan leaned into him heavily. "No more blood must be shed."

"My queen, Aslan loves us too much to let our suffering be fruitless."

"I love you too much to let your suffering be fruitless," Susan replied in agreement.

Caspian looked over at her, his eyes searching hers in the darkness. He kissed her long and slow, pouring his love into her and trying to take her sadness. He kissed the tears from her cheeks. He held her tightly, never wanting to let her go.

They grew restless, and their kisses became more intense. They began to forget about the pain and loss they had experienced and only thought of each other. He lay her down gently on the bed and locked his door. Nothing would come between them. He settled himself next to her and drew her close to him, and their love in the darkness engulfed them.


End file.
